


Unspoken

by kerri_k



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerri_k/pseuds/kerri_k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well this is my first fanfiction ever so I hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is my first fanfiction ever so I hope you enjoy it!

The air seemed to cut Dean’s skin like a knife. It was an indescribable cold, one that reached his bones and chilled his blood. Speaking of blood . . . He tried wiping away at the werewolf blood on his arm but it had already frozen on. Damn! That would be a bitch to scrub off later. He had lost Cas and Sam about twenty minutes ago somewhere in the forest, so he made the trek back to the Impala alone. Snow clogged his boots and his toes curled back. Of course, today was the day he decided to lose his jacket and wear a sleeveless t-shirt.

“Let’s go to Washington!” Dean mocked Sam’s voice as he shuffled, “I know there was a blizzard but we need to catch that werewolf!”

To add to the fact he was close to hypothermia, the sun was setting already. Dean looked at his watch and groaned. In what world did it start getting dark at three in the afternoon?

A tall hill was in the distance, its slopes covered with tall evergreen trees. Thank God for that damn hill. It was the only marker Dean recognized. He was finally getting close to his baby.

But not yet. A noise came from behind and Dean tensed. Within seconds, his gun was in his hands and he had twirled in a one-eighty.

“Don’t shoot!” A voice yelled; its owner hidden behind a clump of rocks. But it sounded awfully familiar . . .

“Sam?” Dean yelled.

“Dean?” Yep, definitely Sam.

“Yeah it’s me.” Sam stood up and shook snow off his jacket. If Dean hadn’t been freezing his ass off, he would have laughed at how ice had gotten stuck in his brother’s absurdly long hair.

“How’d you find me?”  

“Dude, the snow’s two feet deep, it isn’t hard to follow tracks in this.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go, I can feel my toes falling off.” Dean grumbled and pocketed his gun. He waited for Sam to catch up and then they were moving again, both silent as they mused over their cold, wet misery.

Dean thought about mentioning Cas but thought better. He was probably fine, right? Cas had probably found the Impala ages ago, he hardly forgot things like that.

By some miracle, the two brothers found the Impala only ten minutes later. The first thing Dean saw besides his beloved car, was Cas sitting gingerly on the hood like he was afraid to touch anything. He had wrapped himself up in his trench coat and stared off into the horizon blankly.

“Cas!” Dean yelled. His voice was hoarse from the cold and it came out sounding like a dying cat.

Cas heard anyway and looked up. His eyes flashed with relief and in seconds he was by their sides, letting Dean lean on his shoulder and hobble to the car.

“I have been looking for you since we first got separated. Unfortunately, the sigil prevented me from finding you.”

“It’s fine, Cas.” Sam said and smiled weakly. Dean couldn’t help but smile a little. There Sam was, every inch of his body turning blue and he was still trying to help in any way he could.

Cas walked slowly beside them as the two stumbled to the Impala. Dean unlocked the car and slowly sunk into the driver’s seat. Oh it felt good to just sit down. Sam ducked into the passenger seat and Cas must have decided opening a door was too simple – instead he transported himself right into the back seat.

“Dean, I hardly think you’re in any condition to drive.” Cas protested.

“You have a better idea?”

“If you gave me time to heal you, we wouldn’t have any issues. Both of you turn around.” They did and Cas pressed his fingers to their foreheads. A pulse of warmth shot through his body and then Dean felt nothing. No cuts or numb toes or headache.

“See?” Cas asked.

Dean didn’t say anything. He put the Impala in reverse and drove as fast as he could out of the camp sight parking lot. Finally when they were back on the highway and silence had overtaken them, he decided to try anything to lighten the mood.

“New rule. Washington is off limits. No more Washington. We’ll go back to the motel, grab our bags and we’re going to Oregon. Bobby told me about a diner that has the best apple pie this side of the Rockies.”

“I just really want to sleep, Dean.” Sam murmured.

“Sleep on the way.”

“No, I mean in an actual bed in an actual room.”

Dean looked over at Sam and grimaced. The guy really did look exhausted. This hunt had involved days of racing against the full moon with little sleep, it had begun to take its toll.

“Fine. Pie’s a breakfast food anyway.”

The drive back to the motel felt like an eternity. Dean pulled in and Sam didn’t hesitate, he was out of the car and rushing into the room before Dean had even unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out slower and stretched. His muscles ached and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off. He wasn’t tired, though. But laying down under the sky for a while couldn’t hurt . . . Cas appeared in front of him and stepped closer.

“Dean, if you’re tired, I’ll just go-“

“I’m good. I was thinking of getting a beer and watching the sky for a little bit. When else do you get to see the stars at five in the afternoon?”

Cas nodded but didn’t respond. He was too busy picking at his over-sized tie and inspecting every piece of gravel on the ground.

“I can stay if you want,” he finally replied.

Dean looked at Cas quizzically. He sure was acting strange tonight.

“Of course you’re staying. Can you zap us somewhere a little more scenic than a Motel 6?” Dean asked. Cas nodded and for the second time that day, placed his finger’s on Dean’s forehead.

Wherever they landed was dark and grassy. There was no sign of humans, just the dark outlines of trees as far as Dean could see. Up above, the moon was full. It lit up a large portion of the sky but the stars were still visible, twinkling in huge numbers. No city light peeked at the edges of the trees. It was a sight that almost rivaled the sky from Dean’s heaven.

“We’re about fifty miles outside of town. It was the closest land I could find in a wholly pure state.” Cas said as he glanced up at the stars. His eyes had a look of pure admiration in them. “I haven’t seen a clear sky in quite a while.”

“Try telling humans they need to cut back on pollution. They’ll love it.” Dean smirked.

“Sarcasm, I’m presuming?”

“Yeah, sarcasm.”

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, but still it wasn’t silent. Dean laid back in the grass and just soaked it in. Stress still flickered at the edge of his mind but somehow, out here it was easier to forget. Listening to the insects hum and the wind whistle and watching the stars and Cas at the same time.

The longer Dean watched Cas, the more he was at peace. It always seemed like Team Free Will was fighting something. Whether it be demons or angels or each other or in some cases, themselves, it appeared to be a constant battle. Now it was just calm. Dean and Cas alone, like the often weren’t, for once not being surrounded by lies and tricks. It was like a whole new Cas. The solider was gone and replaced by a kid filled with wonder, like he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing was real.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas whispered, breaking the quiet.

“For what?”

“Bringing me here. I probably would have drank another liquor store otherwise.” Cas smirked and looked down at Dean on the grass. “Can I sit?”

“Sure.” Dean said and motioned next to him. Cas sat down on his trench coat and put his hands in his lap, still watching the skies.

“Dean, can I ask you a question?

“Okay, want to ask another one? It’s free of charge.”

“A joke?”

“Remind me to get you joke books on the way back into town.”

“Do you still have my handprint on your shoulder?”

It was almost an instant reflex. Dean’s fingers went to his shoulder, the one he knew would have it. He hadn’t need to  check, the mark was in his memory at least once every day. A reminder of what had been. Not as prominent as before, but still there, smooth ridges that were a perfect outline of the angel’s hand.

“It would appear so.”

“You’ve never asked me to heal it. Why not?” Cas laid down as he asked, letting his head rest on the soft field. He spread his hands out until the space between the two was nearly nonexistent.

“I just forgot about it I guess.” Dean lied. He could feel the closeness of Cas’ body and was caught between moving away and getting closer. Cas would probably tell he was lying, might be able to feel him stiffen at the false words.

“Do you want me to? It might hurt but there’s no use in having it around anymore, I suppose.”

“Cas, it’s fine.”

“Dean, if you don’t-“

“I said it was fine!” Dean exclaimed. Irritation prickled at his skin and he sat up abruptly. The stars weren’t on either of their minds anymore. Why had Cas brought up the damn scar anyway? He had known the guy for over three years and just now it had become important, apparently.

Dean huffed and turned away so he couldn’t see the angel next to him. He looked down at the grass and watched insects hurry by, illuminated by the moon. They were boring and felt gross as a few crawled over his jeans, but what other choice was there? It was this or laying down next to Cas again. He rubbed the scar lightly, glad it was on the side opposite of Cas.

The angel hadn’t said a word or even moved since Dean had yelled. Only the absence of the sound of wings reassured Dean that he was still there at all. 

_Whoosh!_

There it was. Dean looked to his right and saw his friend was gone, leaving only a faint indentation in the grass. It didn’t bother Dean that he was technically stranded in the middle of nowhere. Cas would be back. At least he probably would be . . .

“That son of a bitch.” Dean murmured into the empty air.

“Dean, I wish you wouldn’t refer to me as that. God is in no way a ‘bitch.’”

Dean turned to the sound of Cas’ voice and found he had reappeared on his left. Cas looked down thoughtfully, his blue eyes squinted.

“May I sit?”

“Hmm.”

It was an invitation that Cas had learned to recognize. He sat close to Dean, his trench coat tucked under him.

“I thought you’d left.” Dean said. Pretending he wasn’t relieved to see Cas again was hard. The thought of having to call Sam to pick him up was embarrassing. Thinking of Cas actually abandoning him might be worse.

“Not for long. I had to do some research.” Cas explained. He sounded apprehensive, almost like a kid answering a question in class he didn’t quite know the answer to.

“Research? What kind of research? You better not be turning into Sam!” Dean joked. He expected a laugh. A sigh, at least. But Cas but quiet.

“Cas?”

“Dean, silence would be wonderful.”

“Alrig-“

“Shhhh.”

Dean almost said something in retort, he disliked being ssshh’d as much as any normal person, but the brush of fingers up his arm stopped him cold. Cas’ hand slid up Dean’s arm until it was resting on the scar. Of course, it was the exact same, like it was a mirror image. He wanted to speak so badly but Cas’ insisting that he did otherwise rang in his head.

The angel’s hand moved away slowly. This was way too intimate for Dean, he felt like he was being watched every second, like the darkness and isolation from civilization wasn’t enough to keep pondering eyes away.

“Cas-“ Dean began to protest but the rest of the sentence wouldn’t leave his mouth.

“Humans. So rebellious.” Cas smirked. Another time Dean would have turned to face him, confront him in the best way he could considering he was temporarily mute. But something stopped him. His mind raced as he only imagined what Cas was thinking, his emotions were normally like a map on the angel’s face.

Dean didn’t have to think any longer. A sensation on his scar startled him into overdrive, making any real thought turn into gibberish. Cas’ kiss drew away from his shoulder after a long silence. Somehow, it wasn’t awkward like silence so often was around Cas. It was the feeling after jumping into a pool that’s too cold, shocking and lingering until it fades away into normal.

“Bobby told me that you humans have a tradition. Kissing a wound to heal it. I told him it was nonsense and he told me that that was the whole point.”

“What kind of question gets an answer like that?”

“I hardly think it matters now.”

“It matters to me.”

They looked at each other and Dean saw something. It was an indescribable look, but he could feel it just as much as he saw it and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to just be able to stare at the angel until he figured it out.

And the next kiss Cas gave was not on his shoulder and they closed their eyes and the light from the moon disappeared but that didn’t matter because neither of them had the care to look at the moon for the rest of the night. Why look at a boring rock when something so much more beautiful was right next to you? 


End file.
